


Ghost in Your Arms

by imightbejehan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Ghoststuck, M/M, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:59:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1560701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imightbejehan/pseuds/imightbejehan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dirk just wanted to lead a semi normal life. He didn't expect to get into old gang rivalries, much less meeting cute ghosts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There's a serious lack of dirkjake in this chapter but i swear it's here.

** ===> Dirk: Hang out with your new roommate. **

 

What the hell? You don’t have a roommate, bro. 

Your name is Dirk, and you just moved into a new apartment in a brand new city. You didn’t need a roommate since your brother was wealthy enough to pay for this apartment as an incentive to actually do something with your life. 

As you set the last of the boxes down in the kitchen, you think back to just a few months ago back in Texas. 

You would have been happy living the rest of your life doing nothing but tinkering with your robots, but Bro practically shoved you out of the house. He kept spouting this bullshit about “No self-respecting 21 year old would not have a life, even ironically” and so you left, if only to make him stop. You had the suspicion that he just wanted his lil bro to leave. 

Though you don’t blame him. You may be hella cool, but even you hated how introverted and socially awkward you could be. 

So you found yourself alone in Chicago in an empty apartment with your whole life and career ahead of you.

What do you do?

You do what any self-respecting ironic 21 year old would do: go out to party. 

Okay, so you’re paraphrasing here, but you do go out and socialize. 

The main reason you picked Chicago was, surprisingly, not the wild nightlife, but instead your best friend Roxy. She moved there to go to college, and has a night job bartending, though frankly she could drink every one of her customers under the table. She wouldn’t, not anymore now that she’s recovering from her addiction. 

As soon as you told her that you were being leaving Texas Roxy told you that you just had to come live with her in Chicago. There was nothing inherently off putting about the city, so you took her up on that offer, though you decided to get your own place. She was there every step of the way, so you figured the least you could do was visit her on the job and distract her. 

“Sup Rox,” you say, sliding onto a barstool. The blonde whips her head around from where she was serving some grumpy dude and smiles at you enthusiastically.

“Dirky!” Roxy leans over the counter to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek beneath your shades. “All finished unpacking I see, mm?”

“Yes mother.” 

“Ya want something? I hear the best bartender in town works here.” She sends you a wink and starts off to the liquor shelf without waiting for your comment. 

“Just a soda Rox.”

“Dirky, you are 21. Have you even touched a drink in your life?” 

“Yes Roxy! I would just rather not go through that again.” 

Your best friend scoffs, but slides over a orange soda with a knowing smile. 

 

You get back at three in the morning. 

It’s not a weird feeling coming home to no one, but suddenly you’re hit with how much you are going to miss Bro. The guy may be a total asshole sometimes, but he’s all you got in terms of family. 

You slide down on your back until you hit the floor. Your chin rests on top of your knees in a somehow comfortable curled up position. Taking off your glasses, you rub your eyes. Once you look up, you see a half unpacked box sitting beside the shit couch that came with the apartment. 

You don’t remember unpacking anything, despite what you told Roxy, so you make your way over by crawling on your hands and knees. Being up for 48 hours is unsurprisingly draining, especially after socializing. 

Looking over the contents discarded around the box, you realize this is the last box you packed. You look through the photos of you and Bro growing up and are almost overwhelmed with the urge to cry. 

But you don’t because Striders don’t cry. 

Instead you distract yourself with Lil Cal propped up all seductively in the box. 

Of course you had to bring that puppet that you grew up with, since he was always your best bro. Looking at him now you have to admit he’s kinda creepy, but you brush that thought away because this is motherfucking Cal. Lil Cal rocks. 

A crash comes from the kitchen, shocking you out of your thoughts. You rush in, leaving your shades and Lil Cal on the floor behind you. 

And you know you’ve had too little sleep. 

“What the fuck?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the roommate

** ===> Jake: Fuck the place up. **

 

You most certainly do NOT fuck the place up. You are Jake English, and you just accidently knock things over. 

You guess you could start at the beginning, but it’s such a long dull story to tell that you refuse to tell it very often. Though who are you kidding, you hardly ever actually had anyone to tell it to. Of course it did have it’s exciting plot twists, but you found out that it was best for all parties involved to not speak a word of it. 

Long story short: you’re dead, trapped in the place you died in, destined to be eternally 18. 

Not that you mind because these old ghost bones are still ready for adventures! 

What you did mind is all the roommates you’ve had to put up with. It gets tiring being ignored so often, it’s almost like you aren’t even there! Which is silly because you are indeed there. 

The worst part is when they move the furniture and then as soon as you try to put it in the right spot again they flip out and run out screaming. Come on, chums, you don’t want to make a big deal about it, but the couch is supposed to go against that wall. No need to have a conniption! 

So after the last tenant left screaming you figured you would try to not scare the new one. 

But you admit to not being able to resist a good ol mystery.

Your newest rommie was already different the moment he walked in through the door. You hung out in the shadows, watching as the blond continuously brought in boxes. You expected it to take him ages, he was alone after all, but he was a speed demon! You wish you could ask him how he manages to be so fast, but you figure it's not a good idea. He probably wouldn't even hear you. 

He was pretty thin, but you could see the muscles flex in his arms as the man picked up and set down boxes. His blond hair was incredibly gelled up, but it still managed to look soft. His sunglasses though! They are utterly ridiculous black triangles perched on his nose, and he kept them on even when he was indoors. You wanted to rip them off his stupid face but you also wanted to rip his shirt off so you stayed to yourself. 

Once the brown cardboard boxes were stacked up in the front room the blond left and you were stuck alone in silence again. 

What do you do?

Naturally, you snoop around. 

The majority of the boxes hold weird stuffed toys. Those you carefully leave alone because they creep the bejesus out of you. 

Others have different types of wires and gears and other contraptions of the like. You leave those alone too, afraid of breaking something. 

What you really enjoy is the last box you peek in. While the smiling puppet darn near scared the daylights out of you when you first pried it open, you could tell it was the most personal box in the place. It was full of pictures and old vhs tapes. Without too much thought you were able to identify who was your new roommate in all the pictures since he seemed to never take off those stupid glasses of his. 

The newer ones were at the top. He looked about the same age as he did now in most of the photos. In some he was with a blonde girl with a wide smile and black lips, you suppose it may be his sister or girlfriend. You set those aside. You notice he doesn’t smile much unless the girl prompts him it seems because in the pictures of him and some weird looking robots the boys face is blank and empty. 

They jump from about 20 and solemn to 10 and cheery. All of these contain a man with the round glasses toting the younger kid around. In one he’s on his back, trying to yank the shades off. In another they are holding up gang signs with pursed lips. Posed with guns. Posed with those god awful plush toys. 

The last one seems to be your roommates birthday. There’s a giant cake to the left of him, but in his arms is that creepy puppet and he looks absolutely ecstatic. It’s the happiest picture of them all. 

Suddenly you feel a little ashamed of your snooping. These were obviously personal, and he didn’t know you at all. Actually to him you didn’t exist. So you set the box down by the door to the bedroom and move off to help out in other places. 

In the kitchen you try to be helpful and put away some dishes, hoping that when the man came home he would think he just forgot that he did it. The man only had two of everything, which you thought was weird. Every one who had lived with you had hundreds of plates and cups. Instead the newcomer had two mugs, two plates, two forks and knives and spoons. He was obviously not going to be having a party anytime soon. 

You heard him coming in and shuffle around. You were almost done, so you tried to finish as quietly as possible. Curse your short legs; all you needed was to put this cup up in the cupboard. Frankly you had thought that being a ghost would help you out, but you couldn’t seem to master the floating up part. Just a little - 

CRASH.

“Cheese on fucking crackers!” You stare down at the shattered glass. You know he heard it, you know what’s coming. 

“What the fuck?” 

You turn to look at him, waiting for the questions and screaming about going crazy, but the man is staring straight at you. His shades are gone, revealing piercing bright orange eyes. 

“What the fuck?” He repeats. He continues to stare at you not even paying attention to the broken cup. 

“Uh..”

He quirks an eyebrow up at you and it hits you. 

“You can see me?” 

“Well no shit.” The blond seems to recover his senses enough to cock a hip out and get snappy with you. You don’t care though, this is the best day of your - er - afterlife. 

“You can see me! Gee willikers what are you? Are you a witch or a shaman or-”

“Oh my god, bro. Calm down for a second. Breathe, I mean if ghosts even can breathe. If they can’t breathe anyways.” 

“Okay, sorry ol chap I’m just not used to talking to people these days. Looks like I lost my manners for minute there.” You stick out your hand without thinking. “The names English, Jake English.” 

There’s a moment of silence as he stares at your hand. You realize that he may not be able to touch you, but before you can retract it he reaches out and grabs you. 

“Okay English, I’m Dirk Strider.”

You body shivers and fades in and out quickly returning for to normal after a moment, but you don’t dwell on that because Dirk’s hand is actually holding yours. You are touching a human for the first time in almost a hundred years. He hastily pulls away too soon for your comfort, but you can’t blame him. You can’t imagine what it would be like to touch a ghost. 

“Well English, as much as I would love to stay and chat, it’s time to pass out. Try not to stare at this hot bod while I sleep.” He turns away and walks into his room leaving you stuttering behind him. 

“Don’t worry chum! I’ll just be out here!” 

The door slams without another word. 

You sigh and turn back towards the glass shards on the floor. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh these two are too fun to write. if you liked it or have any suggestions, comment please! 
> 
> If you just wanna say hi, I would love to talk @ queenofhearts.co.vu


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New levels of irony and friendship

**=== > Dirk: Wake up.**

 

No, not yet. You think you'll sleep a little longer. 

Wake up!

Fine, you wake up, opening your eyes to the bright midday sun. You search blindly for the shades on your bedside table. You slip them on and heave a big sigh of relief as the room darkens. 

You may not have drunk any alcohol, but you still have a killer headache. 

Your stomach growls and you growl back at it. You can’t put off getting up any longer, but you like to pretend. There is no point in getting dressed when you plan on staying in all day, so you stroll into the kitchen in just your bright orange boxers. 

You search in the boxes until you find the small box of Fruit Loops you stole from the hotel you stayed at the other night. You rip it open and begin eating it dry straight out of the box, turning to go back to your room and fuck around on your laptop.

Once you pass through the living room you hear a loud cough behind you. Your back stiffens and you whip around only to find Jake the Friendly Ghost hacking up a ghost lung. 

For a second you just stand there, not knowing if you should pat his back and help a bro out because it’s not like ghosts can die again, but then he seemed to come to his senses and recover. 

“You alright there bro?” You ask.

“Oh yes, chap just spiffing!” 

“Uh huh.” You move to walk away, but feel bad. You didn’t owe the ghost anything, but you felt bad for the kid. You turn back to see him staring at the floor. “Do you want some Fruit Loops?”

He stares at you, glowing green and wavering slightly. You don’t even know if the fucker can eat anything.

He comes over and reaches out, tentatively taking one piece. You see his brows furrow in concentration and it’s absolutely adorable.  He raises it to his mouth and some how this is the most intense moment of your life. It’s all been leading up to a fucking ghost eating a single Fruit Loop. 

It falls right though. 

You don’t know what you expected, but it certainly wasn’t the face Jake made. He had begun to look constipated from concentrating so hard, but as soon as he let go of the cereal he looked like he stubbed his toe and sniffed some shit at the same time. 

He didn’t look to happy with you laughing at him either. 

"It's not funny!"

"Sure as hell is."

Jake frowned at you and faded slightly. You found it strange how his moods seemed to affect his appearance. 

"Okay, I'll make it up to you. How about a movie?" You ask, and he immediately perks up. 

 

Out of all the ironic things you had done in your life, watching a ghost movie with an actual ghost topped the cake. While Ghost was an ironic movie in general, you felt like you just defeated all the levels. You just reached the boss of ironicness. 

Jake’s love for the movie was sadly not ironic. He giggled at everything Whoopi Goldberg said. You weren’t even exaggerating, but somehow, it was nice. 

You hadn’t realized how lonely you had been. Bro was never home, and when he was the only time he gave you any attention was when he was beating the shit out of you. Roxy was the closest thing you had to a friend and until yesterday she lived across the country. Jake wasn’t exactly a friend, but he was something. 

You did have a friend once. You catch yourself reminiscing, but quickly shove those thoughts from your mind. Now is not the time. The time to bring up the past is never actually, and you’ll be damned if you ruin everything you could have in Chicago. 

So you turn to Jake and decide to find a little bit more about your new - uh - acquaintance.

“Jake?” 

He hums in response, his eyes not leaving the screen. He is perched at the edge of the sofa like he is watching the most amazing and gripping thing. 

“How did you die?” 

You swear he get’s even more pale. His jaw clenches and he crosses his arms, refusing to look away from the screen. 

“Golly, I don’t want to miss this part. Hush!” Jake exclaims. His eyes briefly flash to your face. 

You let the moment slip past and watch Jake start to relax again. Obviously dying was a sore subject, which thinking about it now you should have known. Your eyes trace his profile, studying. 

They weren’t kidding with the saying “White as a ghost”: Jake’s skin was bleached out until there was no color other than the faint green emanating from him, casting shadows. You wonder if he was this good looking while he was alive, or if the whiteness just suited him. 

He was obviously just a kid, barely 18, with his front teeth poking through his lips and glasses that made his eyes look too big and you felt bad for him. 

But he was already dead, so what could you do about it now. You lay back on the cushions and shut your eyes for just a second.

You pass out before you know it. 

 

“Dirk. Dirk. Dirk my boy wake up!” 

Jake is hovering above you, his nose nearly touching yours. You swat him away and wipe your eyes, trying to figure out who and what you are. Goddamn naps. 

“Wha-?” 

“There’s someone at the door!” Jake is fiddling with the hem of his shirt. The green aura around him is pulsing, but you can’t tell if any of this is from anxiety or him being excited. 

“It’s probably just Rox.” You roll off the couch with a groan and make your way to the door. You turn around before opening it. “Behave now. She won’t be able to see you, and I don’t want her coming up with wild scenarios about how this apartment is haunted.” 

“Well-”

“Ah!” You hold up a finger to Jake’s lips to silence him. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

You turn to the door, straighten your shades, and open it. 

A purple and black mass attacks you nearly knocking you to the ground but your years of strifing has taught you how to take a charge. The mass giggles uncontrollably, causing you to smile when you pull Roxy off of you. 

“Dirkyy!” 

“Wow Rox. It’s like I haven’t seen you in 8 hours.” 

“I knew you missed mee!” She throws you a wink, but continues before you can answer. “Now c’mon. I need to take my bestie all over the city. I know the best places you’ll just love them, mmk!” 

“I don’t know-” You’re saying, but she’s already dragging you out the door. You throw a glance at Jake before the door shuts, and wish you hadn’t. He was waving cheerfully, but his smile was slipping and his eyes were just sad. 

You start to wonder when the last time he had actually talked to someone before you; when the last time he had stepped out of that door was. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh i just do not like this chapter that much, except little bits, but it is a filler. I'm so sorry this took so long, the plot is going to pick up don't worry!
> 
> who has seen Ghost though?? I quite enjoyed it, but I'm a bit like Jake in that respect B)
> 
> Hope you guys liked it, I have exams coming up so I won't promise the next chapter this week. 
> 
> If you have any suggestions or anything comment or hit me up at queenofheart.co.vu  
> thanks uwu


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day out on the town, a date with the past.

**=== > Dirk: Party all day long.**

 

Ha, no. 

Since Roxy dragged you out of the house, in your sweats no less, you made her bring you to the nearest coffee shop before doing anything. You cringe slightly when you walk into Starbucks, but you’ll take what you can get. 

“So, what’s up?” You ask, leaning on the counter waiting for your order. Roxy stares at you with that look she always gets when she’s hiding something. 

“Nothin’! Abslutly nothin’. Can’t just wanna hang out with my best bro for a day?” 

“You just saw me last night though.”

“But before then I hadn’t seen ya in like over a year. So there.” 

You hide your face in your hands so the blonde won’t see your smile. “C’mon Rox. I know you.” 

“Black with double shot,” the barista droned. You reach for it, but he pulls it back. “Dude you’ll be up for the rest of your life.” 

You slip down your shades so he gets the full force of your glare and reach over the counter to snatch the cup from him. “That’s the fuckin’ plan man.”

You turn back to Roxy as the two of you walk out. "Okay home girl, spill."

"Gasp! Don't use the gangsta talk with me, you know I get all weak in the knees."

"That's why I do it, Rox."

She tries to fake swoon into your arms but you push her away and shoot her a stern bro gaze that your Bro taught you. Roxy just wrinkles her nose and takes a sip from her water bottle. You feel uneasy about it, and without really thinking you grab the bottle from her and take a swig yourself. Water mixes with the coffee flavor left over in your mouth and washes it down your throat. 

"Happy?" She quirks an eyebrow at you. You nod, feeling bad. 

Roxy had been an alcoholic just a year ago, and even though you knew she had more determination than anyone, she struggled a lot everyday to keep from drinking. Especially working as a bartender, but when you begged her to quit the job last time she relapsed, Roxy told you that she couldn't just give up because it might make her life hard sometimes.

"I just worry about you, y'know."

"Speaking of worry..." As she trails off she looks away from you. You know exactly where this is headed. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

You hold up your hand. "Nope. Nope. Stop right there we are not talkin about it."

"Dirk it's been over five years. You practically never leave the house, and now that you've left Texas you can start over fresh."

"It's called being an introvert."

"No it's not, it's called anxiety and the only way to get over it is to push through it. What would Da-" 

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare ever say his name!" You whirl on Roxy, nearly growling. She doesn't back down though. 

"You need to acknowledge him for everything he was and move on Dirk. Go out and make good relationships. Just make sure none of them are more important than me." Roxy tries to lighten the mood with a wink. You offer her a small fake smile for her efforts.

You sigh. "What if I told you that I did make a friend last night?"

"I wouldn't believe you," she scoffs. 

"Well I did. His names Jake, Jake English."

"Ohhhhhh? HIS name?" There's a few nudges thrown your way and you can't help but blush a little. 

"Just friends Roxy."

"Well good for you, Dirky." 

She says it so sincerely that you just maybe start to believe that she really was proud of you. Too bad your new friend is a ghost who likes shitty movies. 

 

You flop down on your bed. The pillows muffle your screams thankfully, or else the cops would probably have knocked down your door thinking someone was being murdered. 

As much as you loved Roxy, hanging out with her could be emotionally taxing. 

"Uh, Dirk?" Jake's voice drifts down the hall, but you don't answer. His calls grow closer until he reaches your room. "Ol chum! What's wrong?"

"Go away. I don't fuckin wanna talk about it."

You feel the pillows and blankets shift around you, but there is no reply. After a few minutes of silence you peek over to see Jake sitting next to you curled up and staring blankly at the wall in front of him. You turn to see if there is anything you put on the wall yet, but it's just empty and beige. 

"It was right there." His voice matches his stare.

"What?"

"You asked me how I died. I was murdered right there."

Jake was murdered?

He doesn't give you time to say anything.

"I was living here too, just like you are. Don't worry though, no harm should come to you. It's not like this place is haunted with threatening ghosts right?" He forces out a laugh. "You see I had gotten mixed up in a lot of stuff, ol chum. Golly, I was just sixteen when I started. I didn't know it was going to escalate to the point it did. When I tried to tell my sister they - they killed her. When I tried to get out they killed me." 

He isn't crying, but you can tell he wants too. You don't pry into the details he's skipped over because there must be a reason holding him back. You reach out and grab his hand gently. He still doesn't look at you, but you feel his fingers tighten around your own. 

"The worst part is that it was all my fault."

"Jake, I-" 

"I just thought you should know. Please don't inquire further, for your own sake Dirk." He started to get up to leave the room, but your grip on his hand grew tighter to stop him. Jake finally looks at you. 

"I... Have a brother." Jake settles back down next to you, tilting his head in curiosity, so you continue. "He had a name once, but he just became Bro to me. He was really all I had growing up, but... But he wasn't exactly a role model. We used to get into these battles we called strifes, which he would always win of course. I used to think he was some kind of superhero, maybe training me to grow up to be just as badass as him. It was really just an excuse to beat the shit out of me, I know that now. 

It probably helped that he was always gone, so I was always caught up in this mysterious being that was somehow related to me. And I missed him and I miss him now even though now he probably doesn't care back in Texas."

He squeezes your fingers and warmth spreads throughout your body. The two of you may not have been fully open, but it felt good to get at least part of the weight off of your shoulders. 

Jake returned to staring at the wall, but you let your eyes wander over him. It was strange that he could feel so concrete to you when he is so transparent. Getting drowsy, you move closer to Jake until your head rests on his stomach and your hands are squished between. You close your eyes, one more thought crossing your mind before you black out. 

Such a shame he isn't real. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me too long to post, I'm sorry. I had more at the end, but I feel like that would be more important to the next chapter. 
> 
> *wink wonks about Dirk's past*


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it begins.

**=== > Dirk: Be a part of society**

 

    What the fuck does that even mean.

   For the second time you wake up close to Jake, only this time he's sleeping too. You lay on his chest, listening and waiting.

   There is no breath to move your hair, no heartbeat to match with yours, no body heat radiating off.

   You had known he was dead, there was no denying it, but it had never felt quite so real until now. You could forget he was dead and just pretend, but now there was no way to.

   You slide off the bed, grabbing your laptop on your way out. You make quick work of hacking your neighbor's Wifi password and going onto BBC news. The best way to get news about the great United States was always from an outside source who would be impartial about the situations.

   But, there was nothing new, so you switched to local.

   The biggest story was some metro station getting bombed. It was abandoned so no trains were destroyed. As you scroll through the articles you find only one person killed, ten injured, and a shit ton of backed up traffic from some sidewalk collapsing in. Flipping through the pictures you wondered at how amazing it was that there were so few casualties.

   There was a little sound behind you, and you turn to see Jake floating and staring at the screen.

   He blinked. Once, then twice, before he said anything. When he did he pointed to the screen and asked, “What is this?”

   “A computer,” You answer blandly.

   “No, no! I mean what’s going on?”

   “Oh, some old telephone railway thing was blown up. There was only one death though-”

   “T-telephone and telegraph?”

   You scroll down a little before you see Illinois Telephone and Telegraph in italics.

   “Yeah, how did you know man?”

   Jake started backing away then. He ran into the table behind him, knocking over some boxes of who knows what.

   “No, no no no. Fuckin shucks buster, this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

   “Calm down bro,” you reach out a hand, but Jake skitters away from you, “it was one death, everyone is okay. You didn’t even do anything!”

   “You don’t get it. You don’t understand Dirk. It’s not about killing people. This was a warning. To me.”

   “Sorry to break it to you, but you’re dead. What else can be done to you? And besides haven’t you been dead for quite a while?”

   “There are worse things than death.” Jake turned back to the screen. “Maybe death can stop some, but if you were never alive, nothing can stop you.”

   “What the fuck are you saying?”

   Instead of answering, Jake faded out until you couldn’t see him anymore.

   “Jake? Jake!”

   There was no answer.

   “Motherfucker.”

 

   After a day of radio silence you find yourself in the bombed underground railway. It’s night, and not so hard to sneak past the few policemen stationed to watch over.

   It was mostly rubble, not anything surprising. You didn’t really know what you were expecting. Maybe something more exciting. Not just rocks and dust.

   Something in this pile of shit lead to secrets about Jake’s past, and you’ll be damned if you don’t find it.

   Out of the corner of your eye you see something, a splash of bright red.

   You walk over and trace your hands along the curved, drippy edges. It’s a giant spiral, about two feet in diameter. It was dried, but still bright. When you took your hand off, little dried bits peeled off onto your finger tips.

   With a start you realize there is no way that this is spray paint. It was blood.

   “Jesus fuck. Jesus fuck. Fuck!”

   You know your time is running out before the next watchman makes a sweep past you and catches you, so you take a picture of the spiral as fast as you can,  not even caring about the flash that just alerted everyone to your presence. Then you abscond as fast as possible.  

 

   “Jake?” You call into the empty apartment. “Jake please come out I have something important to show you.”

   There was silence for a moment, but before you could panic the little ghost appeared in front of you.

   “Oh thank god. I was starting to get worried-”

   “Worried?” Jake tilted his head.

   “Yeah asswipe. Friends don’t just go around disappearing without a word. I didn’t- I was hoping that you were okay.” You can’t look Jake in the eye’s as you say this. You hadn’t really addressed the fact yourself why you were going to such great lengths to get Jake back again. You missed the goddamn ghost.

   “Friends?”

   “Enough with the one word replies already,” you say, waving a hand haphazardly through the air. “Now, this is what I needed to show you.”

   You pull out your phone and scroll into the camera roll. The first picture is exactly the one you’re looking for: the giant red spiral.

   Jake is white as - well a ghost. You ponder quickly about how you need a different comparison for that one, but you put that thought aside.

   “You said this was for you. Do you know what this means?”

   “He’s back. It means he’s back.”

   “Who?”

   “I told you about the unpleasantness I got myself into. Well it happened to be a gang, a gang with a leader who is apparently immortal.”

   “Apparently? Don’t sound so casual about it jeez.”

   “I had always had my suspicions,” Jake muttered, “but I never really knew. I never really believed..”

   “That’s pretty fucked up.”

   “Um well yeah.”

   “So…?” You trail off, not really knowing how to phrase everything going through your mind. Jake shuffles over to the couch and sits down, clutching his forehead like he’s about to pass out. You’re about 99.8% sure that’s actually impossible, but you guess that it’s reassuring to him either way. “So what do we do about it?

   “What do we DO? Nothing, chum! There is nothing on this godforsaken planet that can help stop him. I couldn’t do it while I was alive, how can I do it now that I’m dead?”

   “It helps that he can’t really kill you again, so there’s a one-up.”

   His green eyes stare at you without any laughter.

   “Okay, I was just kidding god bro.”

   “This isn’t something to joke about.” Jake shakes his head and his voice sounds empty, completely devoid of hope. You place a hand on his cheek and force him to look at you.

   Your heart hurts at his sadness, but you push the lump forming in your throat down.

   “Jake. I need you to trust me. If you only trust me on one thing I need it to be this right now. I will never let them hurt you again. I will protect you.”

   His eyes are so bright with tears that they nearly blind you. It hadn’t been too long since you met him, yet you felt an overwhelming urge to help him; to never let him down; to see him smile every chance you could get. You never want to see him cry again.

   The silence is leaving you drowning in your thoughts before Jake finally opens his mouth and spills out his entire story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this chapter would be fun I lied SORRY  
> though plot developing is fun right???  
> next time is jakey boy's full back story yay!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story

** ===> Jake: Begin **

 

“Okay,” you start, taking a deep breath. The air blows right through you, cooling you down like a breeze. You know you don’t need to breathe, but somehow it’s still a habit for you. 

“I guess it started when I was just a lad. My family never had much money, my parents had passed when I was quite young, so my sister and I lived with our grandmother. I was a delivery boy for a long time, while my sister sold flowers on the streets. Sadly, I will admit to pick pocketing on occasion, but we did what was necessary.” 

You look to Dirk, to watch his expression change, but it doesn’t. His eyes stay open and kind, inviting you to continue. In some way you knew that he understood. 

“And that’s how I became part of the gang. Grandma died when I was thirteen. I started making deliveries at first, not much different than what I originally did, but it paid. Golly did it pay. A few years later I was told that the boss wanted to see me. Lord English, that was the jerkwad who ran it, told me that I had been doing so good that he was impressed. He told me he wanted someone as loyal as me to get the credit I deserved. He gave me a purse of money, more than I had ever seen in my life, and told me that was just the start of it; that I would be rich.

“And I fell for it.” You nearly choke on your words now. You had never told the story before; you didn’t even know how to form the words right. 

Yet you remember it all too clearly. 

“I told you about my sister. Well, it was an accident that she found out. She wasn’t even supposed to be home.”

You remember her face and her questions and the gunshot that rang in your ears for days. You remember how bright the blood was. 

“You don’t have to-” Dirk tries to interrupt, but you can’t stop now. 

“I had borrowed some money to get the new apartment for Jade, it was going to be her birthday the next week. I had wanted to move in early so we could have everything already settled in time to have a party. She was turning thirteen. 

“But Lord English had come because I was taking too long to pay him back. It had been about a month since I borrowed the money, so it was just a warning. He was just gonna point a gun at me for a little bit then leave, I had seen and friggin’ done it myself enough times that I thought it was going to be okay. 

“Jade came home early and saw me with a gun aimed at my head and she flipped Tried to bash a henchman’s head with a flower vase. She actually managed to knock the bugger out, but I was too distracted yelling at her to notice Lord English whirl the gun on her and take the shot.

“I tried to get out after that. They caught me while I was packing up the apartment. That dadblasted Lord English didn’t even have the decency to kill me himself.”

You finally pause again, blinking the images away. Dirk is still staring at you but you can’t quite read his expression. He should be horrified, but it doesn’t seem like he is. You don’t catch any pity in his eyes either. 

“I was never as good at adventure as I had always believed, I just wish I had figured it out sooner. But - there is one thing that I found when working for English: he wasn’t human. I thought I was seeing things at first, that the green underneath his coat was just a shirt, but it wasn’t. I still don’t know what he is, but I don’t think he can be killed Dirk.” 

Dirk smiled and it was almost cruel. 

"Anything can be killed, you just have to find it's weakness." 

His smile relaxed after a moment into his trademark flat expression. You realize that he doesn't have his ridiculous sunglasses on. When you ask Dirk quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Dude. It's two thirty in the morning, even I couldn't see." 

You turn to the window with a start. You clearly remember the last time you were talking to Dirk was during the daytime, with sun streaming in the windows. There is some memory, right outside your reach of slipping into something, some kind of tangible darkness.

“What if he was a ghost?” Dirk asks, interrupting your thoughts. 

“That wouldn’t make any sense. You are the only one who can see me, while Lord English was seen daily by people.” 

Dirk shuffles back farther on the coffee table he had sat on and contemplated for a moment. 

“Well there’s always the poltergeist right? Like a spirit but I think I watched some ghost hunter show one time that said they could solidify themselves.” He paused, then looked at you. “Bro do you think you could do that?” 

“No friggin’ way! You saw me try to eat that cereal.” You grimaced at the memory, but the blond laughed. 

“Ya got me there.” 

“But, I’ve been wondering - you can touch me.. Do you know why?”

Dirk shrugged noncommittally. He doesn’t look at you for a minute, and his face is straight when he does. 

“Didn’t it happen with your other roomies?” He asks.

You shake your head violently. “Nope, you’re the first person I’ve even talked to in AGES. I think you’re one of a kind.” 

You think you see a light blush underneath the dusting of freckles, but you are unwavering in your belief that Dirk would be too cool for that. 

“Yeah well, we already knew that,” he deadpanned. “Now,” he stretched his arms, “what are we going to do?” 

 

You were certain that the two of you were going to start planning to take down Lord English, but that wasn’t the case. 

Instead Dirk decided it was snack time. Which was ridiculous because A. it’s three in the morning, B. Dirk was way over the age of 9, and C. there was nothing except for orange soda, cereal, and popcorn. So popcorn it was. 

You always had liked to watch the way people were in the apartment, and with Dirk it was no different, though now you could be seen staring. 

He smiles at you as he tells a story about how the movers were incompetent, but there is a crease on his forehead from tension. 

After a moment of zoning out in his eyes you realize Dirk is staring at you expectantly and slightly worried. You realize he has stopped talking and you feel your body heat up. 

“You alright there Casper?” 

“Oh! Y-yes just spiffing ol’ chum!” 

When he smiles this time you see his face relax. 

“Y’know,” he says as he turns back to melting butter on the stovetop, “I thought you were gonna disappear on me again.” 

“How long was I gone for?”

“Five days.” He looks away from you again. 

“Huh, I don’t even remember it. The last thing I remember is looking at your computer screen and seeing the train accident.” 

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t happen again, right?” 

There’s a weird smell coming from the stove, and you realize Dirk burnt both the popcorn and the butter. Without a word he dumps both into a large bowl, mixes it up, and starts eating. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jake hun... you are such a dork when you talk with that vocab  
> this i so much fun to write I can't believe it has six chapters already?!? 
> 
> Tell me what you think please! It's really appreciated to know if the story I coming out okay, no beta afterall uwu


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New friends new feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SO SORRY   
> for taking so long, i had lost all motivation and went through a serious bout of depression  
> here's to kicking depressions ass for the week

===> Jake: Watch

 

You watched Dirk eat the popcorn, which to be frank was quite rib-tickling. 

He was trying his hardest to eat the burnt and crusty popcorn and play it off like he had meant to do it. In no way does it look appetizing, but Dirk is not going to let that stop him. 

You were overwhelmed in that moment in the fact that you actually had someone next to you right now. Someone who knows you exist and says they will help you. You were overwhelmed with something much more than joy in that moment. 

“Dirk.”

“Mmm?” He mumbled around a mouthful of popcorn. 

“Thank you.” You smiled at him. His orange eyes keep contact with yours for only a moment before he turns away. 

“No problem, Jake.” 

But it IS a problem. You watch Dirk’s profile as he laughs at infomercials and chokes on popcorn, and you know that what you are feeling isn’t just friendship feelings. 

You, Jake English, may or may not be in love with a human. 

That human may or may not be a certain blond named Dirk Strider. 

If you were not already dead you think you would have died a little bit with this realization. But you are dead, and so this thing that you’re feeling will never work out. As far as you’re concerned Strider isn’t even gay. 

“Alright, man,” the blond said after a few minutes, “tomorrow, I mean later on today, we’ll check out that railway site.”

“That’s your plan?! Just walk onto the site and offer ourselves up to death?” 

“Calm down bro, nowhere in this master plan does it say “get ourselves fucking killed or succumb to infinite blackness in the case of being already fucking dead”.” 

You growl out a complaint but Dirk refused to listen to you. 

“I’m going whether you like it or not. The question is if you are gonna get off that transparent ass of yours and come with me.” 

Jake looked down at the couch just slightly showing through his legs. “I don’t know, I feel like I have a more translucent booty.” 

Dirk choked on his popcorn. 

 

“Okay, not creepy at all,” Dirk whispered into the dark as the scrambling of a rat echoes off the walls. 

“You are literally walking with a ghost, chum. Isn’t that supposed to be the definition of creepy?” 

“Oh fuck off. I’m creepier than you  chum .” 

Even you couldn’t deny that you were not exactly the perfect example of a sinister being. It’s not like you tried, anyways, so that can be your excuse when the underworld calls asking why you haven’t meet the spooking quota this year. 

While you drift along debating your existence and lack of spookiness, Dirk grips your arm, effectively stopping your train of thought. 

“There’s something over there!” 

“What are you-” A white blob crawls out from under some rubble. You coo softly. “Aw it’s a rabbit!” 

“Uh uh. No way, I’m done.” Dirk’s grip tightens and tries to pull you but you don’t budge. 

“Come on, good chap! Look at how cute it is.” 

“Nope. Nope. I fucking hate rabbits man. Can’t trust them.” 

Then it hits you. Dirk Strider, well known Mr. Cool, is a complete wimp. 

“Oh golly, are you afraid of a little rabbit?” It’s hard to speak when you’re laughing so hard. 

“I’m not afraid,” he scowled, “I just don’t like them. They draw people in with their fake cuteness then rip out your throat. Devils I tell you.”

“I wouldn’t say fake cuteness, that’s just mean. I think we’re very cute, truthfully.” 

“GAD-”

“SHIT!”

We jumped up, Dirk grabbing onto my arm, scared and scrambling away from the woman that had just miraculously appeared before us.

She just sighed and jutted out a thick hip. “Now, is that any way to greet a lady?” 

“Lady?” Dirk asked, pulling away from you. “You were a rabbit five fucking seconds ago. What the fuck -- who the fuck are you?” 

“I think I should be the one asking the questions here, since you two are trespassing.” With a flick of her wrist the brunette conjured up a large red trident, pointing it at us. Dirk took a step forward, gaining back his confidence.

“Last time I checked this property was owned by the state, so you’re trespassing too, Bunny.” The lady sighed again and pushed her red rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose with her free hand. Dirk took this as a sign to continue. “Since we all are trespassing we’re here on equal terms.”

“Alright then, one question each,” she challenged. 

“Fine then. Who the hell are you?” 

The brunette moved the red trident so that the flat end was resting on the rocks, and leaned against it casually. 

“Jane Crocker, Hunter extraordinaire. Now who are you?” 

“Strider.” 

“Who is your friend, Mr. Strider?” 

You start. This is the second person to be able to see you know, after years of solitude. Nothing is making any sense. 

Dirk is staring at you when you look over. He seems just as stunned as you and you realize that someone has to answer this Jane Crocker before she impales someone. 

“English. Jake English at your service m’am.” 

You sincerely hope that red on her cheeks is not from anger. 

“Nice to meet your acquaintance Jake English.” 

“Now we have that out of the way, what are you doing here?” Dirk snapped.

“I believe we said one question each, meaning that you have already reached your limit.” 

“Well, I haven’t,” you pipe up before Dirk can get any more than a growl out of his throat. Jane nodded, giving you permission. “You, uh, said that you were a Hunter, correct? Does that mean you’re here for Lord English.” 

Jane’s face got about ten times more serious then. “Since you know his name I’m guessing you’re here for the same reasons.”

“How do you think I got to this state, dear chum!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how many times can dirk say fuck in one chapter ... 
> 
> im with Dirk on the rabbits though, ive never been a fan?
> 
> Jane is hella ooc, but please forgive me since this is my first time trying to write her. I'll get the hang of it, and she'll grow more fond the the boys
> 
> im on tumblr drabbling @ justffine.tumblr.com or my main queenofhearts.co.vu   
> come talk to me about homestuck and cry because basically everyone is dead and dirk is a wreck

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on tumblr @ queenofhearts.co.vu


End file.
